


At the Altar of Vormir - a Stucky shortfic

by SubverbalDreams



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bromance, Drama, Endgame Fix-It, Feelings, Fix-It, M/M, OTP Feels, Romance, Steve being thick, Stucky - Freeform, consider this my fix-it fic, it wound up being romantic though, not thicc just regular thick, torture tuesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:53:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SubverbalDreams/pseuds/SubverbalDreams
Summary: Steve and Bucky stand at the cliff. A sacrifice has to be made, but does Steve love him enough for Bucky's death to yield the soul stone?





	At the Altar of Vormir - a Stucky shortfic

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a [Torture Tuesday](http://barb-aricyawp.tumblr.com/tagged/torture-tuesday) Tumblr prompt from the imitable **[Barbaricyawp](http://archiveofourown.org/users/barbaricyawp/pseuds/barbaricyawp)** whose fics give me life (and fun dreams).

 

“Lose that which you love, huh.” Bucky smiles miserably as he takes in the long drop. Steve’s distracted, staring at the Red Skull like...well. Like he’s seeing a ghost.

“Who d’you love, Steve?” Bucky asks. Like it doesn’t matter. Like it never had.

_A soul for a soul._

His oldest friend comes to stand alongside him, shares the discouraging view.

 _Do you know? Do you have any, fucking idea?_ Bucky wonders, but a small, sad part of him knows. Will he throw himself to his death just to have Steve walk away, empty handed and bewildered?

_You brick-headed ass. You perfect, noble bastard._

“Someone I can never have,” Steve says.

Bucky barely registers the words, because Steve’s palm cups his cheek, and the sadness in those ocean blue eyes consumes him alive. His breath stops when Steve leans into him. A kiss—on the cheek, not the lips, but they’ve never done this before, and Bucky’s shattering inside. All those little pieces he’s scraped together the last couple of years, all of it in ruins. He just stands there, arms at his sides. He can’t process what’s happening.

And then Steve runs.

It’s like he’s been punched out of his own body. Bucky doesn’t think; he doesn’t reason. Steve takes a swan dive off the edge of the altar of Vormir, and Bucky leaps after him. He catches Steve midair and turns him around. Pulls him in and crushes their lips together while the wind screams annihilation and the ground rushes closer. His own teeth cut his lips open. A burst of copper against his taste buds. He shoves his tongue into Steve’s mouth, violent robbery instead of sweet seduction and it doesn’t matter because it’s _Steve,_ and Bucky will join him in war or oblivion with equal abandon.

Something catches them around the legs and wraps them together. Bucky savages Steve’s mouth as their plummet veers sideways. Solid rock hits them like a Mack truck and he barely pulls his tongue back in before his teeth smash together. They swing outward from the wall of the cliff, then hit it again. The cliff begins to move alongside them, the cord around their legs hauling them upward.

 _Clint,_ Bucky thinks, but there is no relief. He feels like he could howl for days and not be rid of the rage inside him.

 _“YOU DON’T DIE WITHOUT ME!”_ He screams into Steve’s face, spraying him with flecks of blood and spittle. Keeps screaming as they’re hauled up, and it doesn’t matter if they live or die, but it has to be together. Steve is such a fucking idiot. _“NEVER! YOU SONOFABITCH!”_

“Bucky?” Steve’s crying. His whole body shakes in Bucky’s arms.

Bucky tilts his head so he can spit blood into the chasm above them. His breath hurts like knives in his ribs.

“I _did_ my time,” Bucky says, his voice somewhere between a pant and a snarl. “I’m not living if you’re dead. I can’t do that again. You can’t force me to.”

Steve stares, as if he can’t believe it. And it hurts, it fucking hurts because he’s so fucking stupid sometimes.

 _“Who_ can you never have? Huh?” Bucky grabs Steve’s hair in his flesh hand and gives it a jerk. Revels in the softness of his hair. The way his jaw clenches to resist the pull. How his red-rimmed eyes blink away the tears, lashes in little clumps like flower petals.

“You always had women,” Steve says, bewildered. “Always...I didn’t think…”

“Fuckin’ dumbshit!” Bucky claims another kiss from Steve’s mouth before he can say anything else.

He has blood up his nose by the time Clint and Natasha have hauled them back onto solid ground and still Bucky can’t let go. He rolls on top of Steve and holds his face with both hands, straddles his hips and takes his mouth like he always wanted to. Blood tastes pretty good, he thinks, when it’s got Steve’s flavor added in.

“Bucky,” Steve gasps. “Wait. Please. Stop!”

 _“What?”_ He’s still angry. It shows in his voice.

“I can’t—oh god. You don’t know what you’re doing. If we do this—I can’t...let you go.” Steve sobs; his face contorts as more tears spill out. “I thought you’d hate me if you knew.”

Bucky stares, open mouthed. It’s Clint who speaks.

“Jesus, Cap, for a smart guy you’re dumb as dogshit sometimes. Even I knew Barnes had it bad for ya.”

“What do you need, a billboard?” Natasha adds. Something in her voice makes them both look up.

She has a gun trained on Steve’s legs.

“Now.” She captures Steve’s attention with a level gaze. “You are going to walk your sorry ass back to the ship, or get your kneecaps shot off in a _decidedly_ unheroic way.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumbl me [HERE](http://subverbaldreams.tumblr.com).
> 
> Twitterpate on my [Twitter](http://twitter.com/SubverbalD).
> 
> Be warned, most of my stuff is 18+ with dark themes. 
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoyed this!


End file.
